


Sync

by hearts_blood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Requited Love, Unrequited Love, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/hearts_blood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Her stomach hurt. All the potions, spells and incantations in the world and they could still only mitigate a woman's ages-old discomfort. Magic couldn't fix everything.</i>
</p><p>Tonks believes Remus isn't as dangerous as he thinks he is. Remus believes Tonks is being foolish. Mad-Eye is annoyed with them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sync

**Author's Note:**

> As per April's Standard Operating Procedure(tm), this is a tiny fragment of a long, convoluted AU wherein my favorite characters DON'T FUCKING DIE. I mean, seriously: what the hell, Various Fandoms?

It was surprising to find that an old, decrepit, until recently morally bankrupt house like Number Twelve Grimmauld Place actually had no ghosts. That wasn't to say it wasn't haunted... merely that it had no ghosts.

Tonks sat alone in the battered kitchen, listening to the irritable pacing of agitated feet in the room above her head. She preferred the kitchen to the parlor—it was the warmest place in the house, for one thing, both in actual temperature and in its lack of glowering, disapproving Black family heirlooms. She was very glad that Mundungus Fletcher had made off with the old silver, embossed with family crest and memories. And so long as she was in the kitchen, she could hear Remus upstairs, and keep an eye, or at least an ear on him. 

She took a sip of her tea and grimaced. Her stomach hurt. All the potions, spells and incantations in the world and they could still only mitigate a woman's ages-old discomfort. Magic couldn't fix everything.

The footsteps on the creaking wood halted suddenly, and then just as abruptly started again, sharp nails clicking on the floorboards. So long as Remus took his vile potion, the most that would happen was that there would be a wolf in residence for a few days. But that didn't make Remus any less uneasy, so at night, in his room he remained.

No, magic couldn't fix everything.

Soft whimpers trickled down to Tonks. Mad-Eye had warned them all that the first night of the cycle was always the worst. "Yeah, that sounds about right," Tonks muttered, setting aside her cup and rubbing her cramped muscles. She knew she should go to bed. Sirius—well, _Harry's_ house was the safest place she knew of, in these troubled times. It was all right for her to sleep.

But it was only once the pacing upstairs had finally stopped that Tonks at last vacated the kitchen.

At some point during her restless night, she thought she heard—sensed?—someone outside her door. Instinctively, her hand closed over the wand beneath her pillow. She heard a rapid, breathy sound, and then a softer sound like cloth being crushed. Very odd... and she didn't feel in the least threatened. Even odder. 

Before she could wake fully and investigate, the sounds had stopped.

Frowning, Tonks lay back down, and soon slipped into a warm dream that made her blush when she awoke, and have difficulty meeting Remus's eyes at breakfast. He was avoiding her as well—he said, because his enhanced nose made her difficult to be near at, as he so delicately put it, 'that time of the month.' He was probably even telling the truth.

Mostly the truth.

_"It's too dangerous."_

_"Everything we do is dangerous."_

_"I meant for you." His brown eyes were mild, sorrowful, without even a hint of the predator he feared so deeply. "I've got nothing to offer you, hardly a Sickle to my name. Besides which, I'm old enough to be your father."_

_"My mum married a highly unsuitable man, and look how well that turned out!"_

_"Yes. Your mother's sister wants you all dead." His hand on her face was broad and strong; his touched was filled with regret. "Do not ask me to put you in more danger than you're already in, Dora."_

They had barely spoken since then, expect on matters pertaining to the Order. Tonks had taken refuge at the Burrow a few times; Molly Weasley had been motherly and surprisingly sympathetic—moreso than Tonks's own mother would be. But then, Mum didn't know Remus Lupin. Andromenda Tonks probably wouldn't see the kindness in his eyes or the humor in his scarred face. She might overlook the poverty that was not his fault, but never past the fact that he was a werewolf, in spite of that not being his fault either. No sane parent wanted their only daughter to marry a werewolf.

Tonks choked down her bacon and eggs and went out, disguising herself as a postal carrier.

Remus couldn't eat. The Wolfsbane Potion always unsettled his stomach. "I did the only thing," he said to the empty table. "The right thing."

Alastor Moody was watching him from the doorway, waiting. His false eye stared accusingly at Remus. "Maybe," he grunted, "but the right thing for who?"

"You've battled creatures like me all your life. Can you see us together?"

"No. But I've never yet seen Nymphadora Tonks be wrong about something she wanted." Mad-Eye turned to go. "Come on, we're due to patrol at St. Mungo's."

*** 

Molly patted Tonks's hand with a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help to you, dear."

"'S not really the normal run of things, is it?"

Actually, with the exception of Remus's affliction, it sounded like every other tortured young romance that Molly had ever heard. But Tonks would not find that a comforting thought. "Just be patient. I know you don't want to hear this... but he does make some very valid points about his condition. Have you thought about what your life together will be like? Werewolves are not well-understood, even..." Molly hesitated. "Even by those of us who know Remus as a friend." The young woman raised depressed eyes to her. "Suppose your parents won't approve?"

"Would you?"

"Well, considering the age of my only daughter," was Molly's dry reply, "I think I'd be a little worried if Remus asked for her hand in marriage."

"You know what I mean."

"Of course, but I also know Remus quite well. I know he's a brave, intelligent, conscientious man who would never intentionally hurt anyone. And I know that _you_ , young lady, are a talented Auror who has a good understanding of what marriage to a werewolf will entail."

"Well, mostly." Molly raised her eyebrows; Tonks blushed all the way to the tips of her hair. "Not funny," she muttered, grinning in spite of herself. "There's precious little to understand. Werewolves don't generally marry or reproduce. Too dangerous."

Molly offered a lopsided smile. The whole Order knew that Remus returned Tonks's not-very-subtle feelings. He walked through his days like a broken man. But he was as stubborn as Tonks. "Just be patient," she said again, "but be persistent. Either he'll come to his senses, or he'll walk away. But you can't force him."

"Force?" Tonks snorted. "I'd have better luck forcing my mum not to wash my socks."

*** 

As soon as he returned to headquarters, Remus took his potion and retired to his room—with Mad-Eye's wand practically planted into his spine. "I'm sick to the back-teeth with both of you!" the grizzled old Auror declared with a growl to do a werewolf proud. "You're no use to the Order as a lovesick puppy, Remus! There's a damned war on! Make up your fool minds and get on with it."

When the moon rose and heralded his change, Remus was ready. The Wolfsbane Potion minimized the pain of the transformation, although nothing could take it away completely. He had folded his threadbare clothes away carefully. Unable to hold down a job, he could ill-afford to destroy a suit while shape-shifting. Indeed, if it wasn't for Harry allowing the Order to continue at Grimmauld Place, Remus would have been effectively homeless.

The effect of the moon's rays hit him like a full Body-Bind; he gritted his teeth and willed his muscles to relax and let the change overtake him. It hurt. He wanted to fight, to run... but he could never run far enough or fast enough to outrun his curse. Graying brown fur sprouted and rippled across his skin, and the night exploded into a riot of enticing scents. Remus fell gratefully to all fours and stretched his abused frame, his mind blunted but not blanked as the true lycanthropic change would have left him.

He could put names as well as faces to specific scents. He could smell Tonks... very vividly, and he wanted to go to her. Instead, the rawboned gray wolf jumped lightly onto a battered sofa, turned around three times and then curled up forlornly in the overstuffed cushions, his nose tucked under his tail.

He slept. It was easier to sleep as a wolf than as a man. A wolf had no thought of the past, no heed of any future farther than the next morning. A wolf ate when he was hungry, slept when he was gorged, and mated in the spring. As a man, his body raged and his blood cried out for the nearness of her. As a wolf, his cravings were simple, direct. He didn't have to think about the rightness of his desires, only how to satisfy them.

Remus had never been grateful for his affliction before, but lately the morning after his change had left him with a vague, almost shameful sense of regret. The wolf had no regrets. He slept, attuned to the vibrations of the decaying house and the breaths and heartbeats of the people within.

He lifted his nose, his ears swiveling forward. Someone was outside his door. He listened to the angry, hissed words from within the corridor. "Alastor, for the last time—no! He'll never speak to me again!"

"So much the better! At least it'll be done with."

"I'm not going in there."

There was a pause. "Are you afraid of him?"

"I'm cautious of the werewolf. But I'm not afraid of Remus."

"Then open the door." Nobody moved. Then there was a flash and a female yelp. "Open the door, Tonks."

"All right, all right! Never thought you'd be playin' Cupid, Mad-Eye... _Alohomora_." 

The locked door swung open; the wolf raised his head and stared calmly at the human girl, his enormous liquid brown eyes regarding her with impersonal cool. He knew her, didn't he? Of course he did. She was Tonks, and she smelled of copper and sugar.

Tonks stared at the wolf. 

"Good night!" said Mad-Eye curtly, pulling the door closed with a dusty thunk! and locking it from the outside for good measure.

"I'm sorry about this, Remus," said Tonks quietly, her eyes locked with those of the wolf, the eyes of the man she loved. "You know how Alastor gets."

The wolf, naturally, said nothing. His enforced silence emboldened Tonks, and knowing that he could not interrupt her or cut her off or even leave the room, she found herself saying things she never thought she would be able to say to Remus Lupin's face. "Y'know, ever since I told you I loved you, I've been wondering what you must think of me. I've been trying to see it the way you must see it—an Auror falling for a werewolf. Must be mad, must be crazy... must have some sort of sick fascination with a creature she's meant to destroy. Maybe she wants the weird sense of power that comes from dominating and controlling a werewolf... or maybe she just gets off on the idea. Believe me, Remus, I've thought of all that."

All this time, she had been walking slowly forward, closing the distance between herself and the recumbent wolf. Now she knelt down on the floor, so that she was eye-level with Remus. 

"I've thought of it all. But I didn't fall in love with you because you're a werewolf. I fell in love with you." Carefully, always aware that he was not an evil Dark creature but a true wild animal, Tonks laid her hand on the gray-brown wolf's head, gently ruffling his ears. Slowly, a contented sound rumbled up from Remus's chest, a low continuous growl mixed with a plaintive whine. Then he stretched up and thrust his head under Tonk's chin, rubbing his muzzle along the length of her neck.

Tonks wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his warm fur. His nose was right beside her ear; he licked her earlobe playfully and she shivered.

He wouldn't be able to speak to her until morning, but something told Tonks that things would be all right.

*** 

She awoke on her feet, wand drawn and at the ready before the sleep had cleared from her eyes. "Remus?" Then she saw what had awoken her—the big, bony graying-brown wolf, writhing in a shaft of weak sunlight. Tonks kept her wand raised, and watched, unable to do anything for him until he had transitioned back to human form.

She watched, fascinated, as his tail arched and disappeared, his paws lengthened and became hands and feet, and his fur faded back into his skin. At last Remus collapsed to the floor, gasping. Tonks brought the blanket from the sofa and draped it over him. 

Throughout the transformation, he had not made a sound. 

Kneeling beside him, she brushed the damp hair from his forehead. "Morning."

Remus managed a smile. "Are you still here?"

"'S not as though I can get out. Moody locked me in."

"Dangerous madman. He could've gotten you killed."

"Right. Death by wolfie cuddles."

"Pardon?"

"You fell asleep with your head in my lap," Tonks teased.

Remus sat up abruptly, pulling the blanket over his thighs. "It's the potion, Dora. That's the only thing keeping you safe. Otherwise—"

"Well, that's my lookout."

"You should go."

Tonks had just about had enough. "No."

"Don't argue with me—"

"I told you, Moody locked me in. There's no getting out until he lets us out. We're stuck in here." She leaned forward. "Now kiss me."

He would have protested, but she didn't give him the opportunity—Tonks launched herself at Remus, the force of her slender body knocking him to the floor, her slender and it was too much for him to fight anymore. The smell of her overwhelmed him; Remus gave himself over to instinct and acted as they both wished him to act.

After, he was too frightened to look her in the fact. The smell of blood filled his nostrils and she was feverishly hot under his hands. "I've hurt you..."

But Tonks was only blushing, thoroughly embarrassed. "Yeah, that, uh... that time of the month, remember?"

Remus's relief was so great, he could not even laugh at her. "That's right, yes, I... I forgot."

"So did I, actually. Forgot my own name for a while, there."

"You clearly didn't forget mine," he smiled, relaxing against her. "You probably woke up everyone in this house."

Tonks's eyes widened. Then she grinned. "Good."

Both their heads turned at the small click that came from the door. They shared a rueful laugh, and Remus sighed. "I guess Alastor's decided that we've learned our lesson."


End file.
